Light On The Mayo
by The Great Red Dragon
Summary: Little does Experiment 625 know that the latest Experiment captured by Gantu will have a signifigant impact on his life... Discontinued.
1. Target Acquired

(_A/N: Hi! Here I am, on my first attempt of writing a fic based entirely on 'Lilo & Stitch: the Series'. As the disclaimer, I'd like to point out that I own no characters accept for the Experiment I have created; Disney hogs everybody else. This fic will be mainly centered around 625 (I'll have to get used to not calling him 'Owen') and the Experiment he meets…in other words, no Stitch or Lilo involved. Please enjoy!_)

* * *

Light On The Mayo   
by The Great Red Dragon 

Chapter 1

* * *

On the surface of a green-tinted, holographic geological map, a yellow targeting-arrow scanned and re-scanned the entire surface of a specific Hawaiian island. The target repeatedly stopped and beeped red as it stopped over several fixed locations, and a large, inhuman finger clicked the '_search again_' option on the program again and again.   
A very irritated Captain Gantu sat in a chair in front of the display, his impatience growing steadily as he again and again hit the '_search again_' button on the Experiment-Finder; such a nuisance that the machine kept checking areas of previously-found (and unsuccessfully captured) Experiments.   
His agitation finally grew to a breaking point, and he slammed his gigantic fist onto the table with a roar. 

"_RAAAHHH!!!_"

The force of the impact shook the entire ship. Throughout the craft, appliances fell off of tables, computer screens flickered, insects began to crawl frantically, and 625 called from the kitchen;   
"_Could ya keep it down?! It's hard to spread tuna when there's an earthquake going on!_"

Gantu breathed huffily through his nostrils like an angered bull. He planted his elbows audibly onto the edge of the table and leaned his forehead against his palms in exasperation; absolutely nothing was going right on this day (coupled with 625 spilling a jar of mayo and Gantu slipping on it and being launched like the Explorer 1).   
Suddenly, as if by effect, the computer made a sound that was gratifying to the captain's ears.

_"New Experiment found", "New Experiment found", "New Experiment found"…_

Gantu raised his head, barely hiding a gasp of excitement. He was excited specifically because of the word '_new'_ in the computer's repeating phrase, which indicated that the Experiment the computer targeted now had never been locked on before (by the computer).

"Analyze!", Gantu ordered the computer.   
"Analyze the Experiment!"

"_Analyzing_…", the computer responded (the yellow target, which had turned red and started blinking as it found the Experiment, now turned into a tiny, rotating hourglass).

After a few moments of anxious waiting, Gantu began to drum his fingers on the table's edge as more of his annoyance began to show again.

"C'mon…", he urged in a silent rumble.

Finally, after almost a minute, the computer itself seemed to perk up and brighten.

_"Experiment analyzed and processed"_, it stated.

The geographical map faded, and was replaced by an image of the new Experiment (still tinted green by the computer).   
The Experiment was of orangish-yellow fur, and its stature resembled very much that of 625 and 626. It was short, and had a horizontally-stretched head-structure (like 221, or 'Sparky'). No antennae or spines were visible, but it had extremely large, almond-shaped eyes and a blunt nose. The second set of arms it possessed looked slightly deformed and unfavorable for use; they extended more out of the Experiment's back and looked badly-jointed and very movement-restricted.   
His face looked content and playful.

_"Experiment number 322"_, the computer reported.   
_"Primary function: ornate-maker and keeper of compassion"._

At this, Gantu's face fell; this was not at all of what he had hoped for. This Experiment could not create any destruction that Dr. Hamsterviel would be able to put to use. What praise could be received if he (Gantu) presented his boss with a creature that was presumably only good for making dust-collectors and being a ritual Dalai Lama?

"Still…", Gantu thought to himself after a while.   
"It's better than nothing…at least Hamsterviel will have someone to clean up that dump-of-a-laboratory he's got…"

He suppressed a laugh, but also a cringe as he imagined the scolding he'd receive if Hamsterviel would have somehow peeked into his mind and heard his thought.   
He exited the room he was in by way of the sliding doorway. He headed towards a desk where he kept his multi-purpose utility belt…but it wasn't there.

"_625!_", he called out angrily.

In return, there came a very agitated reply from the kitchen;   
"Whadaya want?"

"Where's my belt?!"

"Around your waist."

"_No, it isn't!_"

"Alright, alright; I got it. Come and get it, will ya? I'm doing something important."

Irritation, agitation, and annoyance rising high inside of him, Gantu stomped angrily towards the kitchen. Upon arrival, he found 625 with his back to him, sitting at the counter with a mess of condiments and a loaf of bread surrounding him. Needlessly said, he was busy fixing himself a sandwich.

"Where's my belt?!", Gantu demanded, angered even more by the fact that 625 wasn't paying any attention to his arrival.

"Hold up…", 625 replied slowly.   
"Just gotta get the right amount of horse-radish…"

"_625, WHERE'S MY BELT?!_"

625 turned around irritably and shot Gantu a nasty look. He snatched something off of the wall and held it out stiffly.

"Here, _Mister I-can't-wait-one-single-minute_."

Gantu was infuriated: 625 had hung his belt up vertically on the wall, and was using the many pouches and compartments to hold tubes of squeezable delicacies. These were still hanging in there, and the sight of it drove Gantu crazy.

"What are you doing?!", he snapped angrily and grabbed the belt from 625, proceeding to throw the squeeze-tubes onto the counter.

625 exhaled in a very testy kind of way;   
"Whenever I put them on the floor, you walk right into them and make a huge mess that you expect me to clean up – I thought I might put that thing to use and use it for something worthwhile."

"I do use it worthwhile!", Gantu objected.   
"How can I carry all of my equipment when I go out to Experiments?"

625 narrowed his glance, very smart-alecky;   
"Well, there's the thing: it's not worthwhile because you never catch any Experiments!"

"I will now!", Gantu insisted, latching his belt around his waist and sticking his blaster into its holster.   
"This next Experiment will be absolutely no trouble."

625 laughed sarcastically and took a bite out of his sandwich;   
"For an Experiment not to give you any trouble, they'd have to be in a coma and singing a lullaby."

Gantu growled dangerously and turned around. He headed towards the exit of the ship. Even though 625 didn't think him capable of anything, he was going to prove not only to him and himself, but also to Dr. Hamsterviel that he could successfully complete an Experiment-catching mission…even if the Experiment was less than harmless.

* * *

(_A/N: first chapter is complete! Yes!   
First of all, you'll probably notice that the chapters are considerably shorter than in my other fics, but that's because I'm only taking a short break from 'Love and Burden'. If I pace myself, I might finish a chapter a day, and there'll only be a few ones (chapters) here; sorry!   
Anywho, hope y'all liked this one. See ya soon!_) 


	2. The Dalai Experiment

(_A/N: second chapter done in one day! How's that for timing, huh?_)

* * *

Light On The Mayo   
by The Great Red Dragon

Chapter 2

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Far from Gantu's ship, in a small and lush clearing aside a peaceful waterfall, major changes had affected the nature.   
Of course, this wasn't in a way that humans might feel the need to do so, like clearing room for buildings or cheap garbage dumps. No; far from it.   
The area, which seemed now almost fit for living (by human standards), was so beautifully and non-violently altered that one might think nature itself had done it. Vines that hung down from the trees into the area had been redirected in their growth voyage; now they spanned seemingly naturally across the trees, without feeling any hate towards their hosts. Flowers and colorful plants were now growing in happy unison, having been individually re-planted to give them the best share of sunlight in the clearing. The waterfall, which had once been raging, angry, and polluted, now ran in a birth-given state of serenity and silence, completely clean and sparkling like only the purest water could.   
Several feet from this, on the trunk of a mossy and flower-growing tree, a miniscule ladybug skittered restlessly across it. The tiny insect would crawl a few seconds, and then stop, then crawl, then stop, and then start the whole process over again. The motives of this action seemed very much un-guessable...but not a thing not to imagine about.   
From the 'horizon' of the log, a pair of very large eyes slowly crept upward. Purple-colored pupils followed the ladybug's movement intently; the eyelids never blinked. As the beetle spread its upper shell and zipped its wings skirmishly, the eyes moved up as an entire head appeared.   
A claw, giant by the ladybug's standards, carefully crept up behind it. Using only this one hand, and an extreme amount of care and patience, Experiment 322 coaxed the insect onto his clawed finger.   
It settled itself comfortably onto its perch, and 322 stood up carefully. He used his other main hand to shield the creature from the 'rush' of wind as he did so. After he was sure that he'd make no more quick movements, he let down his hand-shield, and brought the ladybug close to his face. It skittered around adolescently on his finger, as if not sure where to stay still. Its constant movement brought a wide smile to 322's mouth. 

"_Oooh_...", he cooed in the natural astonishment.

He studied its movements intently for several more undisturbed minutes, completely enthralled and unperturbed in what many would consider 'boring' research.   
After some time, the ladybug began to open its shell and shiver its wings again. 322 seemed to understand something in the motion, and carefully raised his hand into the air, as high as he could.

"...Magatah!", he urged the ladybug, in his native language.

The ladybug turned around, as if obeying, towards the sky. It opened and closed its shell several more times, before it finally took flight, and soared higher and higher into the air, until it flew completely out of the clearing.   
322 followed its course for as long as his eyesight would allow. His face was set in much more than amazement at the spectacle that many others don't seem to care about.   
As if in trance, he mumbled something in his awestruck-ness in Turian, which would be understandable as;   
"_Such grace and power of flight...to a creature so small_..."

He stood spellbound for a much longer time than necessary before he turned his back and walked towards the edge of the pool created by the waterfall, where the rocks bad been arranged to form a little 'pool'. At the base of one of these rocks, in a pack woven of dried banana leaves, he pulled out a sheet of hemp parchment and a charcoal pencil. He turned himself so he could lean against the large stone comfortably, and examined his sheet. Most of it was filled in with Turian alphabet, in 322's attempt to create a journal. Almost all space of it had been filled in, save for a tiny bit perhaps large enough for a single paragraph. 322 handed the pencil to one of his back-hands, and it clumsily brushed the tip against the rock in a sharpening motion (he had decided that was the only thing his back-extended appendages were good for). The pencil passed from hand to hand again, and 322 began to write an entry about his new discovery.   
322 wrote slowly, yet carefully and determinedly. His academic level wasn't very high at all, even though he was extraordinarily intelligent. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been created for the natural world, and not a life of laboratory-science and calculation. But, as said, his plain writing was often bland and with many grammatical mistakes...but it was true to its word.   
For example, his exploit in cleaning the waterfall was like;   
"_Water clean not. Bad things throw into water, fall down. 322 hole make where go bad things; not in water. Dug new water go. Green leaves take out bad things. Pick up and burn fire. Ash use flowers. All good now."_

He was, however, very good at drawing, and his sketches easily deciphered his often hard-to-understand literation. The pictures to go along with the waterfall-cleansing showed him digging a ditch right in the streams that fed the waterfall, where all of the trash would end up if it came down the river. He dug an alternate way for the water to travel by until it reached the fall; he filtered this new way with banana leaves until the dirt and grime had finally gone away. Finally, the sketch showed him picking up the large portions of trash and burning it; it made surprising good fertilizer for the flowers.   
The current entry he was writing was as unsoundly scribed as the previous, but would be coupled with a very accurate illustration of the ladybug. 322 completed his sketch of the insect before he began to write, which went along like this;   
"_New find small red tiny. Wings have. Legs quick, quiet. Wings sky high bird; not bird. Hurt not; only know more. Become on_-"

His entry was cut short; he felt something moving against his leg. Stricken by more surprise than panic, he lifted his parchment and pen out of his way of vision to get a first look at the seemingly-silent intruder.   
It was a sleek, yellow-colored python. It slithered against him seemingly carelessly, by navigation of its heavy, blunt head; is tongue flicking out frequently.   
322 almost dropped his utensils in excitement. Deciding against possibly upsetting his new guest, he carefully set the parchment and pencil aside and waited for the snake to pass him by, with a large, enthralled smile returning to his face.

"_Oooh_..."

The snake slithered passed him, seemingly unaware that he was even alive, and completely unperturbed as it slithered through the grass, almost liquid- like. 322 dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl in unison to reptile's movements. He followed it, dropping lower and lower throughout the time, until he was finally almost on his belly and slithering just like the snake. His wide, curious eyes remained fixed on the python, with as much enthusiasm in them as they held for the ladybug.   
The snake paid no attention as the Experiment moved along beside him. His heat-sensing tongue had detected his scent long ago, but found him both without a threat and unappetizing. In other words, none of his business. He didn't care when 322 quickly moved his hand in front of his face, to see if he would bite; he didn't.   
322 carefully placed his hand flat on the ground in front of the snake. It moved right over his palm without hesitation, which excited 322 even more...would the new creature allow itself to be handled?   
Deftly, he placed another flat-pressed hand in front of the python's path. As the snake moved over it, he lifted the reptile up several inches off of the ground. He half-expected it to resist in any way, but that wasn't the case; the snake, obviously perfectly at ease with him, calmly continued to slither forward, through his raised fingers, back towards the grass.   
322 loved this. He began placing hand after hand in front of the elevated snake, and it moved through his grip as serenely as before. 322 admired the cold sleekness of the snake's scales, and he took great pleasure touching and feeling its texture; it felt very good.   
After several minutes of the snake-handling, 322 let the snake back into the grass. It creeped away from him neutrally, even though the Experiment watched it move with awe and true recognition. Without knowing that snakes didn't possess ears, he stood up and departed it with a cheerful;   
"(in Turian) Farewell, my Earthling friend! Live long and well; I pray for you!"

The snake disappeared into the shadow of the trees at the edge of the clearing without any response.

322 stood in his place for a long time, looking on. The warm feeling that was quelling inside of him was well-known to him...but it was special whenever it was there. It wasn't just because he could handle the snake, or because he could clean the river or because he let the ladybug climb on his claw. It was something much deeper than that...it was to experience the purpose of his life to the fullest, and never growing tired of it.   
Some people might never understand what he knew, but it was his reverence for life that defined his existence.   
He hurried back to his spot by the waterfall rocks, eager to squeeze in another journal-entry about the snake.   
But as he got down and reached for his materials, he immediately froze in his tracks. Something, making a noise unlike any animal, was entering his clearing to his left.   
For the split-second in which he could only hear and not see who it was, 322 had a fearful revelation that it must be a human, indigenous to the planet. He wasn't afraid of humans in a way that he was afraid of wild animals; much, much worse. He had learned by experience that humans would take without asking, cause agony for their own entertainment, and treat anything or anybody the least different as a freak.   
His fears were immediately stemmed as he turned his head and looked. What had come to join him was certainly not a human, but humanoid. A gray- colored giant with bright blue eyes and wearing a black, red-trimmed jumpsuit had stepped out of the trees towards him. 322 wasn't the least afraid; he had known many aliens before, and some of them had been quite nice.   
He smiled invitingly at the stranger, who didn't smile back; he only reached for something in his belt.

"Hello", 322 spoke in Turian.   
"I'm very happy to see you...who are you?"

The giant had taken hold of what he had been searching for in his belt. He was now lowering the strange instrument towards 322's level.

"No one to worry about...", the giant answered in a deep voice.

"Do you want something?", 322 offered.

"No...", the giant answered; his instrument was now steady.   
"But I have somebody that I'd like you to meet."

"Oh, who?"

"His name is Dr. Jacques van Hamsterviel."

"Hamster-"

Just then, Gantu's net-gun fired.

* * *

(_A/N: I hope everybody liked this chapter. I'll admit; the real story isn't going to pick up until the next one, but I thought it would be important that I express 322's nature and being before anything else happened by the way, I'm sorry if I turned 322 into Martha Stewart; I didn't mean that!   
See y'all soon!_) 


	3. Intimidation

(_A/N: alrighty; the next chapter is up! I'll talk more at the end...so just enjoy now!_)

* * *

Light On The Mayo   
by The Great Red Dragon 

Chapter 3

* * *

In the time that Gantu would be gone, 625 didn't leave the kitchen. Far from being set back, he resumed his duty of making sure the ship would never (ever) run out of sandwiches. In his time of serenity, he secured and stuffed not only the refrigerator with sandwiches, but also every cupboard, drawer, nightstand, console opening, and supply bin with every combination of bread and condiment that the ship had in supply.   
He finished stuffing the last cheese-and-ketchup-and-tomato combination into the cabinet above Gantu's bed. He stood back and admired his work in earnest.   
...Still...no matter how nice it looked plainly to the eye, there still was something important missing...something that made it unsatisfying... 

"_Well, duh_", 625 said to himself after only a few seconds.

He reached into the cabinet, pulled out a random sandwich, bit into it, and everything was perfect once more. Now, the feeling was exquisite, as he finished his sandwich quickly and grabbed another one to munch on.

"Yep, couldn't be better", 625 stated to himself proudly.

Just then, across the ship, he heard the main entrance open with a hiss. He was immediately quick to leave Gantu's room at that; Gantu wasn't too happy to open his room to 625. 625 now realized that Gantu was bound to find out about the sandwiches stashed in his room...and he hoped that he had left an egg-salad mix in there, if it would be any consolation to the captain's mood.   
625, in addition, also realized that Gantu's mood was bound to be severely impaired; there was no way that he could've been successful in catching an Experiment. Usually, 625 would take this opportunity to poke some fun at the whale-like alien, but the joke would probably be on him when Gantu discovered more than just some bread-crumbs lying around the ship...and that in a mood sourer than any pickle.   
As he switched the closed behind him, 625 expected to hear the usual sounds of Gantu's failure and anger (loud grumbling, stomping, etc.).   
...But there came none of that. On the contrary, echoes of ecstatic humming and happy whistling sounded down the hallway like a carnival theme, and was shortly accompanied by Gantu's horrible singing-voice chorusing;

"_Oh yes I got it, oh yes I'm good_..."

Gantu came into 625's view as he rounded the corner, looking higher in spirits than 625 hadn't seen him since...forever.

"I take it ya found a twenty-dollar bill on your way back", 625 smirked.

Gantu didn't seem the least put-off by this sarcastic comment. He twirled ungracefully in a happiness that 625 could guess, but didn't dare himself to believe.

"Seriously; what's so wonderful?", 625 asked earnestly.

Gantu looked down and grinned smugly at his Experiment comrade, still soft- shoeing around the place.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?", he chuckled self-assuredly.

"You didn't seriously catch one, did you?"

"I've caught the world in my hands..."

"The doped-up act is getting a bit irritating, G. Did you catch an Experiment or not?"

Gantu reached behind him and pulled forth a tightly-tied net-sack, that he held loosely in his hand. He shook it between two fingers like a bell, and his smile continued.   
625's mouth actually dropped as he stared at the limp, unmoving sack like it was something unbelievable.

"...You have got to be kidding me", he said in disbelief.   
"...That can't be a live one. You just threw a buncha stuff in that bag to fool me, didn't you? Admit it."

Gantu jiggled the bag and looked happy enough to kiss it. He danced a twirl and swung the bag above his head in a sudden burst. 625 quickly stepped out of the way of his dancing.

"Can I see it?", he asked Gantu.   
"I still can't believe you until I actually see it for myself."

Gantu seemed to ignore this question. He stepped lightly towards the room that held the teleporter.

"This one's going straight to Hamsterviel", he sang happily.   
"_Oh the salary, oh the bonuses_..."

"C'mon; lemme see it, G!", 625 urged impatiently.

Gantu continued to ignore his tiny counterpart. He stepped nimbly towards teleport-room, still humming happily to himself;   
"_Only in the eye of the great captor_..."

625 eventually gave up his begging, and tried to believe that he had better things to do...although he was still more than eager to see Gantu's success ("_If there even is any_").

"Fine", he pouted half-heartedly.   
"When Hamster-wheel turns you into a batch of fish sticks after seeing what a useless Experiment you got, see if I care..."

Once more, he was ignored, which peeved him even more. He was ready to give the drunk-with-happiness Gantu the cold shoulder for the rest of the day...but stopped in his tracks in an instant.   
He had just remembered; aside from stuffing every conceivable space of the ship with sandwiches, he had had an accident earlier that had fallen from his mind quickly, but he knew that he'd be painfully reminded once Gantu entered the teleporter-room.   
Now, Gantu blissfully stepped around the corner, still singing his carefree tune. 625 heard him open the door with a hiss, and step inside...then, there was a momentary stillness...

"..._625!!!_"

Gantu's roar was so loud that it sent a shrill of panic down the Experiment's back. Countless thoughts of escape raced through his head, but they all equaled that he was too slow to make it anywhere...what's more, he doubted very much that he'd be able to smooth-talk his way out of it, because what he had done in the teleporter room was really, really bad.

"_625!!!_"

Gantu was now stomping back into the main chamber, at a pace that made any victim think of an angry tiger. He was no longer singing, smiling, or carefree. He was no longer wistfully swinging the net-sack...it was awfully close to being slammed into the wall, as it swung violently to-and-fro with the captain's advancing movements.   
625 froze like a terrified animal. As the captain's face appeared around the corner, it was no longer blissfully happy; it was red-hot enraged.   
Gantu raged towards 625, who stood in the middle of the chamber, looking more than terrified. The giant shark-like alien stomped to a thunderous halt in front of him, and began to shout right into his face.

"_WHAT DID YOU DO!?!_", Gantu roared at him, with enough lung-power to overthrow a tree.   
"_HOW IN ALL OF CREATION COULD YOU HAVE DONE SOMETHING LIKE THAT!?!_"

He was obviously referring to the teleporter itself...which was exactly the center of 625's accident. The teleporter was made up of several important parts, the two majors being the platform and glass 'lid', which contained the teleporting process. The lid was made of a glass-like material that was supposedly unbreakable...and 625 had contradicted that, even though he didn't even remember how he did it.

"_THAT GLASS IS INDESTRUCTABLE!_", Gantu was still shouting.   
"_HOW COULD YOU HAVE DONE SUCH A THING!?!_"

625 slowly looked at the floor and shuffled his feet pitifully.

"Well, you know...", he said slowly.   
"...If you're cleaning house, and you're just a little ungraceful...things like this can happen..."

Gantu's face had already gone from the dull-gray to an infuriated crimson, but now he looked just about to explode. 625 was sure that he was about to receive certain lasting injuries, and he recoiled as unnoticeably as he could.

"_YOU_-"

Gantu, although he was on the verge of knocking out his companion, didn't finish his sentence. He was raising his fist above his head, when he first noticed something...it had been going on for several seconds, but his shouting had drowned it out;   
"_New Experiment found_", "_New Experiment found_", "_New Experiment found_"...

It was the computerized voice, coming from the computer room...it was indicating that his fortune was not yet over!   
Completely cutting himself off, Gantu lowered his fist and turned on his heel, with 625 still frozen in position; covering his head with his arms. He held the pose for a second longer (not daring to look), before finally peeking through slitted eyes.   
Gantu strode back into the computer room and advanced on the computer, which was, as before, flashing with the green target on a location on the island.

"Computer, analyze the Experiment!", the giant ordered.

In a motion that filled him once more with delight, not only did the loading-time take only seconds, but displayed an Experiment that was more than certain to generate praise from Hamsterviel.   
The smile slightly returned to his face; maybe there was still hope! Even if Hamsterviel contacted him as early as in evening, surely his anticipation would allow Gantu enough grant to fix the teleporter...and then, the paycheck would come...   
His calmness restored, Gantu re-entered the main chamber, where 625 was standing there shivering, obviously awaiting his punishment. Gantu pointed a beefy finger at him and resumed a stern look.

"I'm going back out; I've found another Experiment", he stated.   
"You are going to stay behind and begin repairing what damage you caused, and don't say that you don't know how – I know you do."

625 nodded shakily.

"Yes, sir", he answered.

"When I come back, I don't want to see you asleep without any work done", Gantu continued.   
"You work until I come back, and then I'll supervise you. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, _mon__ Capitan_."

"And don't give me that!"

"What? I was trying to be respectful!"

Gantu sighed heavily and became more precise.

"If you break anything else, you'll have no TV, no radio, and no magazines for a month...and only lettuce and asparagus sandwiches."

That shot really went home.

"_Y-Y-Yes...all right; I promise I won't do anything else!_", 625 stammered; the weight of the threat really sinking in on him.

Gantu nodded hardly, and 625 nodded quickly and obediently.   
The captain, obviously pleased with 625's fearful response, considered the matter closed, and turned to a different one; he was still holding the limp net-sack in his hand. He raised it up to his head and shook it dismissively. He had no doubt that the Experiment was still alive, but there was now the dilemma of where to put it. He didn't want to carry it around with him, and considering that the teleporter lid had been destroyed and now couldn't house as a cage...   
Gantu thought for a moment before eyeing a thin, iron pole that stood for support in the chamber and connected to both the floor and the ceiling.

"Move", he ordered 625, who jumped out of the way immediately.

Gantu walked over and kneeled down to the base of the pole. His massive back was to 625, who couldn't see what went on beyond his bulk. He could make out the captain undoing the sack-string and peering inside. Then, quite unceremoniously, he turned the sack upside down, and the Experiment (that 625 still couldn't see) fell to the floor with a slight thump. The next movements suggested Gantu shoving and urging it towards the pole.

"Hold still", he ordered loudly (even though 625 was pretty sure that the Experiment wasn't resisting).

There was some more motion on Gantu's part. He pulled two sets of wrist- clamps from the back of his belt. A second later, two loud snaps confirmed that he had placed them on the Experiment.   
Gantu stood up heavily and turned back to 625; his thick, trunk-like legs still hid the Experiment from him almost completely.

"Listen up", he addressed to the portly sandwich-maker.   
"While I'm away, I don't want you anywhere near this Experiment, you understand? You are not to talk to him or interact with him in any way. Don't even approach him. If he says something, ignore him. I want you to stay in that room and fix the teleporter."

"What if I have to use the bathroom?", 625 asked innocently.

"Don't pay any attention to him", Gantu answered.   
"The last thing I need is for you to get involved with this one and doing something stupid...like letting him loose."

He glanced behind, at the Experiment (that 625 hadn't seen yet).

"...Of course", he added, with a nasty grin.   
"I don't think that this one could even do any trouble."

With just another glance at 625, he moved away, and revealed to him the small, yellowish-orange Experiment that was clamped by both sets of arms to the pole, and was looking more than terrified.

* * *

(_A/N: first of all, I think I understand that the character-actions might be a bit mixed-up here...I mean, usually it's 625 intimidating Gantu, right?   
Well, don't worry; it'll all contribute to the later story...which'll be updated ASAP!_

_Faith – no snakes in Hawaii?...okay; my bad. I just figured that the islands are so warm and tropical that it'd be a snake-esque place...but, then again, this is FanFiction, and I can make some stuff up. Thanks for the info, though._

_Mona – 322 hasn't been named yet; 'Dalai' is just the title of chapter, in reflecting his peaceful personality. Don't worry; you'll find out his name very soon..._

_Okay, I guess I'd better get busy with the next chapter. See y'all soon!_)


	4. Anger, Confusion, and Mixed Emotions

(_A/N: next chapter is up! Read about my apologies and all the other stuff at the end of the section!_)

* * *

Light On The Mayo   
by The Great Red Dragon

Chapter 4

* * *

A while later, 625 sat on the floor of the teleporter room, feeling more stressed and harassed than he was used to. His fingers were sticky and tacky, his feet were cut, and the sweat that constantly dripped off his brown and into his eyes aggravated his to all extent as he tried to glue the lid of the teleporter back together.The process was miserable, which was exactly how he was feeling. Muttering light curses under his breath, his dark expression mirrored by the dim lighting, as he tried repeatedly to somehow piece together teeny-tiny shards of the glass-like material (some of which he had made even smaller by stepping onto), some of which were by now only in fractional size. 

_"…Stupid…make me do all the work…sitting here, working my butt off, while he's out there, doing who-knows-what…"_

He grumbled and complained to no one in sight, and his mind drifted into a state of dullness…so it wasn't long before he cut himself sharply on the finger.

"_OUCH!_", he shouted in both pain and stress, and hid his finger in his mouth.

He cursed some swear-words (although they were rendered inaudible by him sucking on his finger) and stood up violently. He limped over to the openable window (remember, he cut his feet), and climbed onto a nearby chair. He flung it open with a blunt gesture, and shouted out into the jungle;

"Why don't _you_ fix that stupid lid?! See if I care when Hamster-wheel turns you into sushi! I hope he uses salt so you'll shrivel up faster!"

And with that, he slammed the window.   
He knew very well that nobody (especially Gantu) could hear him…and he even knew (just subconsciously at the moment) that he didn't mean what he had just shouted…even though it gave him a momentary vent of his frustration.   
He jumped down from the chair and kicked it. It fell over with a clang, and a pang of pain in his toes. He shouted some more exclamations, but decided against trying to punch anything. Instead, he turned around and stomped (as best he could) out of the room.

It was a short while later, and 625 was in the rec room. He had passed the main chamber without a care, and had gone straight for an armchair…where, under the cushion, he found a cheese, potato-salad, and roast beef sandwich. Upon biting into this odd combination, it had the same, instantaneously effect that someone might get by drinking a fresh beer – relief.   
625 '_hmmmed__'_ peacefully as he felt his stress melt away, and chewed-up condiments went down his throat and into his stomach.   
He enjoyed this sandwich immensely, and ate it very slowly, with his eyes closed. Like a long-lasting point of pleasure, the feeling held until he had swallowed the last bite…and then, he felt so much calmer.   
Now that he was clear-headed again, he sought out a washcloth and the first-aid kit in the bathroom. He washed and scrubbed his hands free of the dried glue, and washed his cut foot with the washcloth. He then applied a role of bandage-wrap to the small injury, and smeared disinfectant over his palms (it was unknown to many that he was very well-informed about first-aid).   
He considered going back into the teleporter-room and resume his repair-job…but it seemed like such a hassle, and his favorite TV show was about to come on…besides, Gantu probably wouldn't be back so soon, anyway…   
So he sat down comfortably in the armchair (keeping the sandwiches warm at the same time), grabbed another sandwich in one hand, the remote control in the other, and settled into a 'snooze-time', where the entire world revolved around the soap opera and the cheese-and-honey-mustard.   
It was his own personal paradise.

Time passed, and so did the television show. As the credits rolled, 625 sat cozily in the armchair, looking very lazy but comfortable as well. With his eyes only halfway open, a once-bitten sandwich in his hand, and a careless strand of saliva hanging from his lower lip, he looked halfway between being drunk and being in a coma…but, of course, this wasn't the case; it was just 625's feeling of ultimate comfort.   
He had dropped the remote control, and he didn't want to get back up to retrieve it…but, considering that what followed his show was a program less-than-desirable, it was pretty much the only choice for him. He slothed out of the seat, and wiped the drool from his mouth as he did so. He grabbed the remote, and jumped back into the chair with a grunt. Then, with a well-trained finger, he began to flip though the different channels in search of something good;   
"_…Junk…trash…garbage…compost…"_

625 heaved in exasperation, as though he were a wrongfully-unsatisfied foreman. There was absolutely nothing good on; nothing to sir his interest…unless he would've included the cartoon channel (but he was still wary to admit it to himself).

"Always gotta do things by myself…", he complained to himself, and got back up again.

He moved over to a shelf that held video cassettes. It was a strange fact, but Gantu kept a very wide array of movies in his ship, even though he never watched them.

"_Better for me, then_", 625 would think, as he thought to himself now, and scanned the shelves for something that was worth his time.

It was then that he noticed something. At first, it was just a simple twitching in his ears…he realized that he had been hearing it almost the whole time he had been watching TV, but not paid any attention to it. But now, it was growing more persistent. He wasn't sure what it was…but managed to distinguish it between whimpering and type of incoherent jabbering.   
At the moment, it wasn't anything he fretted about; a movie seemed more appealing than investigating a strange noise. He popped the cassette into the VCR and settled back into his chair, intent on continuing to wring the lazy entertainment.   
But it turned out that his enjoyment would be a bit…'imperfect'.   
The longer he watched the movie, the louder the noise seemed to get (or, he simply couldn't ignore it as much anymore). He only wanted to turn the volume up so much, and only wanted to stick one earplug into his ear (so he could still listen to the television). But no matter what he tried, the whimpering sounds kept their intent, and by then, 625 didn't have to guess from where or who they were coming from.   
The Experiment handcuffed to the pole seemed to be somewhat uncool with his situation…and 625 was actually kind of annoyed, considering that no other Experiment had ever made such a racket (he then considered they had been stowed away behind the glass of the teleporter).   
But he didn't know what to do if he decided to 'take action'. He had no idea how to deal with a crying Experiment…and besides, Gantu had ordered him not to go near him.

…_Then again, Gantu had also ordered him to stay on the job_…

He pondered the matter as he chewed another sandwich, and the solution seemed quite simple: go into the main chamber, confront the Experiment, ask him politely to go on with his business a bit more quietly (if he's difficult, bribe him with a sandwich), and go on with the movie-watching.   
625 decided it was foolproof…then again, he didn't have much experience in plan-making, and Gantu usually got his (plans) messed up…so 625 thought it would be a whole lot less difficult for him.   
He moved out into the hallway, towards the main chamber. Once there, he peeked around the corner cautiously before going in, as his view was no longer occupied by Gantu's massive bulk.   
The Experiment clamped to the pole was a bit smaller than he was, and he was a lighter, more yellowish orange than he was. His head was somewhat rectangular; it seemed to extend more sideways than it did vertically. The fur around his eyes and belly were a lighter color.   
He looked nothing short of distraught, and even worse. He was clamped to the pole in a way that couldn't have been comfortable: the cuffs were locked so low that he had to rest heavily on his knees, and his second set of arms that protruded from his back had been painfully positioned against their joints, over his head. They were bent the wrong way, and it looked as if it was hurting him a lot.   
His face was turned, so 625 couldn't read his expression. He then noticed that the noise he had been hearing seemed to have grown quieter as he had come closer…either that, or…something else that he didn't want to understand at the moment.   
He stepped out from behind the corner with enough noise to alert anybody to his presence, but the Experiment didn't seem to notice him at all. 625 then broke another rule of Gantu's and called aloud;   
"…Hey!"

The Experiment didn't respond.

"Hello…!"

No response.

"…Hey, I'm trying to watch something in the back, so could you maybe?..."

He tried addressing the Experiment more times, but all without effect. Even when he raised his voice, his head still remained turned, and the incoherent whimpering continued. He eventually tried to make out what he was saying, but was only able to make out a few muttering words here and there.   
Carefully, he began to move around to face the character. He didn't move or make any attempts to continue to conceal his face, convincing 625 that the Experiment wasn't aware of his presence. He moved a bit further around, just close enough to see his face.   
The Experiment's face was turned down, and was hidden partially by the shadows, but that couldn't hide what he was obviously feeling. His eyes, naturally light, were darkly-rimmed, and his face was tear-stained. The rim of his mouth was shining with inconsistent saliva, and his nose was running. His bound hands were positioned right by his mouth, and his continuous whimpering was keeping the stainless metal fogged. His tears flowed over the dark patches under his eyes, wetting and re-wetting the soft tissue. He made no attempt to clean himself; his trance-like state was occupying him fully.

625's first mental reaction was; "_Ewww_…".

It was his given logic that made him come to this 'conclusion'. After all, all of the other Experiments that Gantu had managed to capture hadn't acted up like this, so what was this guy's problem? Was he some kind of wimp?   
Whatever the reason was, he wasn't really interested; he only hoped that the Experiment would snap out of it long enough to get the picture that he should shut up.

"…Hey!", he said once again, louder than before.

Still, there was no response.

"Hey, wake up!"

Nothing.

Before continuing any further, 625 realized that this probably wasn't going to have much effect. Instead, he reached out and prodded the Experiment with one finger.   
The Experiment's eyes draped open slowly, and 625 backed up a bit. The Experiment's eyes were bloodshot and watery, taking away from a purple pupil. His gaze was the incarnation of agony, but overall, he looked beaten and confused. His face rose to 625's, and his eyes caught 625's.

"…You awake?", 625 asked, and quickly persued his question.   
"Listen, I'm trying to watch something in the other room, so could you maybe keep this down?"

The Experiment then spoke in a sob that was dry from his draining spirit.

"_Please_…", he begged in a voice barely distinguishable from a simple whimper.   
"_Please, brother…help me…_"

This caught 625 off guard. He really didn't prepare on being addressed, and certainly not a topic such as this…but his silence gave the Experiment another chance to beg him.

"_Please_…", he whimpered in a stretched-out moan.   
"_Please help me…it hurts so much_…"

"…Uh…", 625 replied slowly.   
"I-uh…I…can't really do that…"

The Experiment blinked his teary eyes and swallowed a sob.

"…Wh-why?"

625 groaned and sighed at the same time.

"Look, I can't let you go", he said.   
"My partner told me that I can't let you go anywhere…as a matter of fact, I shouldn't even be talking to you. I was just watching TV, and you were…"

He looked down; the Experiment's sad gaze was slowing down his train of thought.

"Look!", he exclaimed, more forcefully than before.   
"Gantu caught you, and you're gonna be on your way to someplace else pretty soon. I can't let you go, or I'll get kicked in the rear. If I let you go, cod-face will probably turn me into a basketball, and he'll just go after you again. It's a lose-lose situation every way you turn, so could you just…please be quiet?"

The Experiment looked back at him, with blank and confused eyes. He didn't seem able to process what 625 had just said; perhaps of the severe amount of stress he was in.   
He blinked once, and for a moment his tears seemed to stop for a moment. He looked at 625, and asked in a quiet, sobbed whisper;   
"_But…why can't you help me?_"

"Look!", 625 exclaimed loudly.   
"I can't let you go! Don't you understand that? In a short while, you're gonna be on your way to the idiot called Hamster-wheel, unless this heroic cousin of mine and his little Hawaiian girl-friend come and try to find some place for you that you don't even wanna be in, so just be quiet and let me watch TV!"

It wasn't quite a rant, but 625 was out of breath when he finished. He couldn't remember ever talking to anybody so forcefully, and it immediately seemed wrong to him…but it seemed to have shut up the Experiment.

"…_Oh_…", he finally responded, and it was in his quietest voice yet.

He lowered his face and his head, as far as his position would allow.

"…_Alright_…"

625 then noticed that his shoulders had slumped greatly, as if he himself was depressed…which he then realized that he was. He didn't know if it was triggered by his unnatural outburst, or by the fact that he had been unnaturally agitated, something he thought was impossible, considering his easy-going style…   
He realized that it wasn't the Experiment's fault.

"…Look…", he explained, for the third time, in a much lower and calmer voice.   
"I can't let you go…because if I do, I'll get in so much trouble. If I could do anything for you, I would…but………oh; I can't really make you understand, can I?"

The Experiment didn't raise his head or make any response at all.   
625 opened his mouth to say something, but stopped in mid-breath and turned it into a sigh. He didn't know what else to say, or what else to do…besides walk away. His conscience was screaming at him to do something else, but he didn't know what. He didn't know how to react to somebody's suffering, or even what real suffering was.   
He felt fairly ignorant.   
625 looked back up, and tried to tell himself that the matter was done. He tried to walk, but his feet felt like lead. So he shuffled away, with an iron ring around his neck so heavy it weighed his head back down; an iron ring of guilt and what-a-selfish-idiot-I-am. The Experiment said or did nothing; he wasn't even crying anymore.   
625 hated himself.   
But he did nothing more than walk away, back towards the rec room. He knew that he should look back, but it was too shameful to admit that he was too ashamed to; it seemed a pathetic excuse.   
Without anything else he knew to say, he skulked back to the television and the armchair. He tried hard, for a long time, to get back into the mood of the movie…but it was impossible.

Some time passed, and 625 had lost interest in the movie; it had now ended, and the screen had gone loud and fuzzy. He had spent the last few minutes wondering why Gantu wasn't back yet, and what was keeping him. He considered that the new Experiment was giving him trouble; that was probably it. He sighed and shifted uncomfortably; he was bored. He had almost forgotten about his encounter with the 'prisoner'; it hadn't been intentionally, but his nature served a slow memory.   
How was he now?   
Out of the blue, his ears began twitching again. More alert than before, he perked up and listened for another unusual sound…and indeed, there was one.   
_Bang…_   
_Bang…_   
_Bang…   
_The sound was distant and echoing, and this time, he didn't need to guess who was making them. 625 jumped up from his seat and hurried back down the corridor, towards the main chamber. He only thought of what was going on now, and what the Experiment could be doing.   
For the second time, he rounded the corner that lead into the chamber, and fixed his eyes immediately on the Experiment.   
This time, he wasn't sitting quietly with his head down, and he wasn't teary-eyed.   
His forehead and face were bruised, and trickled with blood; he had been repeatedly banging his head against the metal pole he was cuffed to.

* * *

(_A/N: alrighty…I think an apology is in order, considering that I promised to update almost daily; there's never been a bigger lie told. I hope I can be forgiven…   
625's nastiness towards 322 is definitely out-of-character, but it'll play a part later in the story; literally teaches him about compassion   
Okay; see y'all soon!...   
Hey…where is everybody?_) 


	5. The Great Medic

Light On The Mayo   
by The Great Red Dragon

Chapter 5

* * *

…625, at first, could only stare in awe at the scene. It might've been obvious and nothing special to any other beholder, but the Experiment's act of self-inflicting pain was something completely new to him. He was no stranger to the concept of getting hurt by accident, but the prospect and sight of somebody doing this strong harm to their body in free will, and so intently, made him stare.   
…But the Experiment's face was bleeding…he couldn't be enjoying it; it had to be hurting him.   
625 picked up his pace then. Hurriedly, he moved back over to the Experiment. He had no idea what his (the Experiment) intentions may be, but maybe he could be reasoned with.

"Hey!", he said aloud, hoping the Experiment wasn't in another 'trance'.

He didn't respond; 625 doubted he was napping.

"Hey, man; wake up!", 625 urged him, touching his shoulder.   
"Stop hurting yourself!"

The Experiment paid no attention to him; 625 knew he couldn't hear him. He had no idea what caused these 'blackouts' or lapses of consciousness in the newbie Experiment, but he had a hunch that it had something to do with his levels of stress and anxiety…he doubted the Experiment had ever been put through this type of thing before.   
But he was really hurting himself, and 625 didn't like it.

_Bang!_   
_Bang!_   
_Bang!_

"Stop it!", 625 said loudly again.

In an attempt to stop him, he placed his palm in front of him, against the pole.   
But that didn't stop the Experiment.   
_Bang!_   
Once again, he slammed his head forward, smashing 625's hand between his forehead and the metal pole.

"_YOWCH!_", 625 exclaimed loudly and painfully, tearing his hand back.   
"_WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!_"

The Experiment, as suspected, gave no answer, but continued to bang his head while 625 danced around in pain, holding his hand protectively against the creases of his belly, moaning loudly.   
He threw the Experiment a nasty glare. It was instinctive anger; first-second aggression…but then, he looked down at his aching, throbbing hand, and saw the trace of the Experiment's blood between the lines of his palm.   
…Didn't the Experiment know any better?   
Obviously not; he was hurting himself very badly, and apparently not knowing it himself.   
He wasn't responding to touch or voice…was there anything else to do?   
Determinedly, he shook the stitches of pain from his hand and strode back to the Experiment.

"Hey! Stop it!", he ordered.

The Experiment continued banging his head.

"_Stop!_"

No response.   
625 grabbed the Experiment by the fur on the back of his head and slapped him across the face;   
"I SAID _STOP IT!_"

The audible smack was heard and echoed lengthily down the chamber…it was able to, on account that the ongoing banging had ceased instantaneously.   
The Experiment had frozen, his face still resting where 625 had hit him, and his expression non-moving. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyelids had opened at 625's 'assault'. He looked completely paralyzed, speechless, and in shock about what had just happened…both before and after 625 had shown up for the second time.   
Then, some motion started in his face. His mouth began to move up and down, as though he were trying to say something. He didn't seem able to process any words, minus a few choking sounds. His repeated attempts brought him nothing, even though he tried hard…and 625 waited, not knowing what to do, and feeling doubts about what he had done.   
Then…something else happened.   
The Experiment stopped in mid-mouth motion, as if his jaw had suddenly stopped working. He closed his mouth slowly, and bit his lip…his eyes narrowed into slits…and his tears began to brim again. His mouth opened enough to emit an uncontrolled sob, and he lowered his head shamefully.

"…Oh no…", 625 said in a loose moan.   
"Come on, please don't cry, man; I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Now, he was in even more an unidentifiable position. He logically figured that the Experiment was crying because he had hit him, but if he hadn't he would've beaten himself to death…logically, he blamed himself for the Experiment's tears, but did he also blame himself for the blood on his forehead?   
…Even if he wasn't, he knew that he had done something wrong to begin with (he wasn't sure what, though), and he should try and make up for that.

"…Look, I'm gonna be right back, okay?", he said to the crying Experiment.   
"I'll be just a second, so don't do…anything else to yourself, okay?..."

As he expected, there was no answer given, but that didn't matter.   
625 stood up and hurried out of the chamber, throwing a glance over his shoulder before he rounded the corner. From there, he made his way into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit he had used earlier. Holding it awkwardly but carefully (it was half of his size), he lugged it back into the main chamber, where he was glad to find that the Experiment had not moved.   
He kneeled back down at his side and set down the case to open it. From there, he pulled out a white fabricated cloth, and turned to the Experiment; his head was still turned down.

"…Uh, buddy?", 625 addressed him carefully.   
"Would…would you let me clean up your face?"

The Experiment said nothing; he didn't even move his head.   
625 reached out carefully and cautiously towards his face, with a certain wareness that ruled uncertainty for the Experiment (if he crazy enough to be a head banger, he might bite). Carefully, he touched his furry chin with his finger, and slowly coaxed his face upwards. The Experiment did what the finger indicated for him, but he kept his eyes low and on the floor.

"There we go…", 625 stated slowly, and he raised the white cloth detly.

The Experiment didn't flinch as he dabbed the cut on his forehead lightly and gently, as not to hurt him. He rubbed the fresh-trickled rivers of blood even more carefully, as they were centered around the Experiment's eyes.   
When he had cleaned his face as best as he could, pulled out a squirt-bottle of alcohol-spray.

"This may sting a little", he warned the Experiment, who gave him no reply, but also made no attempt to stop him.

625 tensed and spritzed some of the stinging solution onto the Experiments; perhaps he would move then.   
But that wasn't the case. The Experiment didn't so much as blink an eye, which 625 regarded as no simple feat (he had applied the same stuff to his cut foot, and had then stuffed three sandwiches in his mouth to keep from screaming in pain).   
Once again, he dabbed the injury with the cloth, and then unearthed a small butterfly-bandage from the kit, along with a large roll of tape.   
He looked up at the Experiment, who still refused to show his eyes.

"I'm gonna put this on you, okay?", he said.   
"It's…just a big band-aid."

Working even more careful than before, he gently set the bandage over the wound, which had thankfully stopped bleeding. Then, he strapped forth a length of tape, measured it to the Experiment's head, and began to wrap it around his forehead to hold the bandage in place.   
He encircled his head several times (careful to avoid the Experiment's second set of arms), always accompanied by the sharp shripping noise of loosening tape.   
625 was inexperienced in applying bandages, but he was personally satisfied with the end result; at least his 'patient' didn't look like a mummy.

"There ya go!", he exclaimed finally, throwing all of the bandages and the tape back into the case, and showing a smile to the Experiment.   
"Whaddaya think, huh?"

His response was non-existent and glum. The Experiment simply lowered his head, in the manner that the procedure was done, and he could resume with his stationary head-hanging, now additioned with a white headband-like thing that made him resemble a karate student.   
625's face fell, as did his spirit. Once again, he felt as if he had done something wrong, and let the Experiment down again. He had failed in mending whatever he was attempting to mend…perhaps it was something that hurt the Experiment more than it hurt him.

"…Hey", 625 said quietly to him, reaching his hand out.   
"Hey…I'm…I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I just walked away, a while ago…it was…I was wrong and inconsiderate, and I never meant to hurt you…or for you to hurt yourself…but – see, what I mean is…"

He stopped then, realizing that his words were rambling and without much sense; they didn't matter if they weren't able to reach the Experiment, who was in more emotional pain than he had ever experienced.   
625 reached a soft hand, hesitated for a moment, and placed it gently on the Experiment's bony shoulder. The Experiment didn't move, but 625 felt a shudder run through him as his hand made contact with his fur…but he seemed to fall back into his limp ease a second later.   
625 took a breath, and prepared himself for all the true emotional words he could gather.

"…Look…", he began slowly.   
"…I know that what I say can't mean much to you, and I know, because it's my fault to begin with…I'm a coward, because I'm afraid to let you go, because what Gantu might say to me. I know he won't actually hurt me, but I'm scared of him nonetheless…and I'm so sorry about that, believe me…but if you want anything…anything to eat, or to drink, or if you want a magazine or something, just ask…I mean, I wanna make sure that you're comfortable…at least as much as you can be, before…before…"

He fell short on that last sentence. Not just because he realized that there was no pleasant end to the phrase, but also because the Experiment had finally 'responded' to him…with a small, unalterable sob, and traces of tears returning to his eyes.

"Oh!", 625 explained, retracting his hand quickly.   
"Please, man!-…please don't cry! Whatever I said, I take it back, and whatever you want…anything; just name it!...but please, please, please don't cry again…!"

The Experiment sniffed quietly, and slowly placed his knees together, in his uncomfortable position. Then, he looked up at 625, with low eyes that called themselves unworthy, and requested quietly;   
"…I _need to use the bathroom, please_…"

* * *

(_A/N: I think the inner plot of the story is beginning to unfold…this is more of a story of emotional evolution than anything else, and I think that 625 is gonna portray some feelings that we aren't quite used to seeing. Hope I can get the chapter up faster than this on…perhaps at the same pace, but probably not very much faster, to be honest…sorry._

_Mona – y'know, I have actually considered calling the Experiment 'Dalai'…I think it fits him quite well, but that would mess up the previous Dalai Lama reference and the title of chapter two. I'm really considering it, though…   
I don't think that I meant for 625 to have a disdain for Lilo and Stitch's 'rescue program'; he was just running his mouth a bit. That's nothing to take literally, don't worry._

_Pink Charity – s'okay if you're a bit lazy; aren't we all just a bit idle at times? There's no shame in it, believe me._

_I'd like to thank everybody else who's reviewing my fic here for your precious time that you take to read this and give me your input: thanks a lot!   
See y'all soon!...I hope…_)


	6. A Softer Heart

(_A/N: welcome back, everybody who's waited so long for this next chapter. I'll explain my absence from this story at the end of this, to date, the longest chapter in the story chapter. Until then, enjoy!_)

* * *

Light On The Mayo  
by The Great Red Dragon 

Chapter 6

* * *

Despite the odd nature and request of these first few words, 625 was ready enough to react; his reaction, however, turned out to be quite odd as well. 

"Ya gotta go?", he repeated, as pleasantly as he could.  
"Well, that's just great: you just go on ahead, and I'm sure that you'll have a great time. We've got only the best toilet paper and air-fresheners, and I'm sure that Gantu cleaned in there since the last month, because I know for sure that I didn't. I mean, the ketchup stains are gone, so he must've cleaned up a bit, so it's sure to be nice and fresh-…"

He stopped short in mid-sentence, finally catching up on the appeal and realizing the strangeness of the request. He closed his still-open mouth, and looked quirkily at the lowed-down Experiment.

"…You gotta go to the bathroom?"

The Experiment nodded, barely moving his head from where it was.

"Yes, I do…if you let me…"

625 began to consider. He was all for making the Experiment refrain from another head-bashing, but he remembered the dire command issued by Gantu, for him not to release the Experiment, no matter what.  
625 realized that by not avoiding and talking to the Experiment, he had already broken a few of the set rules, but letting the Experiment out of the shackles he was bound by would be the biggest rule-breaking out of all of the rules set by the captain.  
For the most part, 625 was uncertain. He tried to compromise.

"…Okay", he said slowly.  
"I – I mean, whaddaya want? Should I bring you a bowl or something, or would you rather like an empty bottle or whatever…?"

The Experiment looked confused, and 625, realizing that his foolish attempt wasn't caught on, sighed heavily and began his best to explain the circumstances to the captured Experiment.

"Look, I can't let you go", he told the Experiment.  
"I can't let you out of those cuffs, so I can't let you go use the bathroom…you understand?"

A simple, "Oh…alright…" came as his answer, and the Experiment, as if reassuming his duty, hung his head again and shifted his knees together uncomfortably.  
625 felt fairly annoyed to have his spirit and conscience lowered at such an innocent response, but his self-guilt overpowered his abstract devotion to the rules; another silent war of shoulder-angels and shoulder-devils waged, and the angels eventually grabbed the devils' pitchforks and threw them on the ground. While the devils went to retrieve them, the spontaneous goodness (and ultimate rule-breaking) kicked up in the sandwich-genius, and he spoke up once again, very quickly.

"Okay, I'll let you go use the toilet, but if you try to run away, I'll have to catch you and…and I'll have to put you back on the pole, okay?"

Before the Experiment could answer, 625 had knelt down to him and had undone both sets of cuffs and was hurriedly rushing the Experiment to his feet.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!", he urged, exclaiming with his hands.

The Experiment stood up slowly. He rubbed his wrists tenderly and seemed to stagger a bit before he could regain his balance.  
625 was already behind him, giving him small, urging pushes towards the bathroom.

"Come on, come on!", he hissed.  
"The bathroom's this way! C'mon!"

"Thank you, brother…"

"Enough with the thanks and the brother-stuff; hurry up before Gantu gets back!"

With quick shooing motions, 625 half-urged and half-pushed the Experiment all the way down the hall and to the door labeled (an earlier prank by 625) 'Le Toilette'. He pushed the door open and almost knocked the Experiment over as he pushed him inside, slamming the door behind him.  
625 immediately sank against the door and exhaled greatly; it seemed like an accomplishment.

"Toilet paper's in the cabinet if you need it!", he called over his shoulder, at the door.  
"And if you leave any sprinkles on the seat, clean it up – Gantu hates to find those!"

An quiet "Okay" answered from inside, and 625 settled against the door again. He heard the toilet seat being opened slowly (with both of them being so small, 625 figured that the Experiment had done what he himself always did – stand on the rim), and then, the gentle sound of someone urinating.  
After about twenty seconds, 625 whistled silently and thought to himself; "_Shoot, he must've been holding it for a looong time_…"  
625 heard the toilet being flushed ("_Hope he didn't fall in_…"), both lids being put down, and then the sound of running water. 625 wasn't sure whether to be impressed or irritated with the Experiment's properness; after all, _he_ never washed his hands…  
625 stood straight again as the door was opened. The Experiment's eyes met 625's for a moment before they fell back to the floor, and the Experiment lowered his head once more, as if ashamed by his natural needs.

"So…feel any better?", 625 asked, trying to smile.

The Experiment nodded.

"Sorry about keeping you waiting before, man – I didn't know you had to go so bad."

Another nod.

"Didya wash your hands?"

Nod.

"All of them?"

The Experiment started to nod…then looked, embarrassed, at the set of arms that protruded awkwardly from his back.

"Doesn't matter!", 625 said quickly, as cheerfully as he could.  
"It's not really a requirement around here – G probably doesn't do it, either – and besides, ya probably didn't use that set back there, didya?"

After a moment, the Experiment shook his head.

"Great!", 625 exclaimed, feeling a bit stupid with pretending to be so happy.  
"What're ya worried about, then?...c'mon, let's get you back on the pole…"

His voice dropped off considerably with his last phrase; it felt odd (and somewhat wrong) to return his new companion to the shackles after he had used the bathroom…but, as he knew of nothing else to do, 625 hurriedly turned around and began leading the way back to the main chambers. He heard the tamely footsteps of the Experiment following him, but didn't look behind him until they had entered the chamber that held the pole. He stopped in the tall, sloping entryway, and dared a glance behind him.  
The Experiment had obediently stopped three steps behind him. As always, his head was lowered…but 625 could've sworn that he saw the Experiment's eyes travel quickly downwards once 625 had looked at him, as though he had been looking at 625…or at the pole. The Experiment shivered slightly.

His shoulder-devils were either gone or still searching for their pitchforks, as his conscience had taken full stand at his shoulders, and was positively yelling at him for what he was doing. Had he no decency? Was he a coward for playing jailer for Gantu, even though he felt badly for the Experiment? He had never really thought about an Experiment's life at Hamsterviel's place…but now that he did, he didn't believe it to be at all pleasant, and his conscience was viciously suggesting that he would stoop to a level so of delivering such a helpless Experiment to-  
625 shook himself heavily and grunted. He put a hand to his forehead and gave a small, submissive moan: his conscience was a lot less abusive when it came to his gluttony.

"Uh…yeah, c'mon", he said distractedly to the Experiment; his emotions had given him a headache.

He lead the way over to the pole where the cuffs still rested. Without a moment of hesitation or even the slightest protest, the multi-armed Experiment dropped to his knees and held out both sets of hands, his head lowered once more.  
625 stared at the Experiment with a sense of awe and guilt; what instilled this painful submissiveness in this small, feeble Experiment was beyond him…but he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for it. After all, _he_ was holding the cuffs.

"…Why won't you run?", he asked after a moment, his head cocked uncertainly.

The Experiment slowly lifted his head, and looked at 625 with sad eyes; a sadness that wasn't meant for himself (625 decided to ponder who it was meant for later). He spoke slightly louder and clearer this time – perhaps due to the fact that he wasn't crying or sobbing, or simply because he had spoken to 625 before and felt better about it this time. Still, his voice was as sad as his eyes as he spoke;  
"I don't know…I'm afraid to…"

Now, 625 was truly confused with the Experiment. After all, what reason was there to be afraid? – he could just get up and run, and 625 surely wouldn't be able to catch him (even if he tried to make an effort). 625 didn't consider himself _that_ scary, after all.

"Huh?", he said, a little too loudly to be polite.  
"You're afraid?...of what?"

The Experiment lowered his head momentarily, then slowly looked over towards the entrance of the spacecraft.

"The tall captain…I'm afraid of him…I'm afraid he'd come back…"

"Fish-face isn't gonna be back until later, I'm sure", 625 told the Experiment, wondering why he was offering him to escape.

The Experiment looked unsure again, and continued to hold his arms in front of him.

"He'd know where to find me…", he worried allowed, and shivered.

"Couldn't you just…find some other place, where tuna-breath couldn't find you?", 625 suggested.

The Experiment considered this for a moment before answering.

"I could…", he replied quietly, his head lowered, before he raised it to look back at 625.  
"But…what about you?"

"Me?", 625 asked, surprised more than ever.  
"…Why? What about me? What do you mean?"

"…If I left, you'd be in a lot of trouble, wouldn't you?"

625 took longer to digest the Experiment's words than before. After being snarled at, despised, called names, and ignored by other Experiments that Gantu had captured (one had gone as far as to call him a traitor), the last thing he expected from a captured Experiment was concern for his well-being. He could understand a certain amount of intimidation, but _concern_?  
He eyed the Experiment suspiciously for a moment, as if searching for a hint of sarcasm; there wasn't any. The odd severity of the situation was completely new to the sandwich-maker.

"…Why do you care what happens to me?", 625 questioned suspiciously.

This time, it was the Experiment's turn to look confused. His mouth opened slightly, and despite his submissive position, he managed a quizzical expression as he looked at 625.

"Umm…", he said, slowly, as if he himself was unsure of the right answer.  
"Uhh…aren't I supposed to care about you?..."

625 scratched his head; he wasn't sure of anything, either. Again, he searched for a trace of sarcasm in the Experiment's eyes, but once more, found none.

"Uh…I dunno; are you?"

The Experiment nodded somewhat apprehensively, and eyed 625 not with annoyance, but with a sense of confusion that he didn't understand why one Experiment would care for another.

"Yes…I am…I'm meant to."

625 understood, and he felt silly for not realizing it sooner; there was only one reason for anybody to care anything about his lazy, sandwich-making butt.

"Oh! You mean, besides being the happy decorator and naturalist that you are, you're also programmed to like everybody?"

The Experiment nodded slowly and serenely, now that he had been recognized.

"Yes…I was created to care for, nurture, and love all living things."

625 gave a small snort at the corniness; whatever was Jumba thinking when he engineering this Experiment?

"Okay, okay – so you love everybody", 625 said, leaning against the pole; he had to test this subject.  
"What about ol' Gantu who dragged you in here? Do you love him? Do you need to care and nurture him?"

The Experiment seemed to contemplate this, although he didn't seem upset with 625 taking his purpose lightly; another Experiment had surely put him on the spot for his programming before.

"I'm afraid of him…", he answered slowly.  
"But only because I know why he's so rough. He's on a mission that's very important to him…he's driven for his own existence, and I don't think this situation is his fault. He was happy with his success when he caught me, but I don't think that he enjoys doing what he does."

"But that's not what I asked", 625 pointed.  
"I asked if you feel all that silliness for him like you said."

"He's…very sad and lonely…so yes, I do", the Experiment replied, and his eyes looked sad again.  
"He does what he does because he has nowhere else to go or no one to go to. He captured me and was happy about it, but that's not really him…he's not really as hard as he puts on…his heart is still very soft."

"Gantu? A soft heart?", 625 repeated, and laughed.  
"I've been living with that sardine-headed oaf for a long time, and he's anything but soft. How can you know what he's like inside after just being thrown around by him?"

The Experiment shrugged.

"I don't know. I just do. I'm meant to. I can tell by someone's eyes."

625 blinked…and only then did he realized that he had been sharing eye-contact with the Experiment for quite some time now. Now that the subject had been introduced, turning away from him couldn't deprive what was surely coming.

"I've seen your eyes", the Experiment said quietly, revealing 625's fears.  
"You're a bit sad, yourself…but your heart is even softer than the captain's."

"Okay! That's enough chit-chat!", 625 suddenly exclaimed loudly, standing up straight and breaking the eye-contact.  
"You're supposed to be locked up again by now, so…let's see those wrists!"

The Experiment didn't bother to look surprised. Dejectedly, he extended all four of his arms again and lowered his head, not saying anything. 625 took the two identical cuffs into his hands and reached out, looking forward to not being mentally strained anymore.  
Inches from the Experiment's hands, he stopped…and looked closer.  
The Experiment's wrists were raw and bruised from the first time he had been cuffed. His right lower wrist looked particularly bad: it had a cut and was bleeding.  
625 cringed at the sight and withdrew the cuffs. The Experiment opened his eyes slowly.

"Why didn't ya tell me that your wrist was so-!", 625 demanded quickly, happy not to go forth with cuffing the Experiment again.  
"You shoulda told me while I was doing your head – shoulda told me that the cuffs were too tight! Look at what it's done, now!"

The Experiment glanced at his gently-bleeding wrist and looked back up at 625.

"I…I didn't think…", he tried to say, quietly.  
"I didn't think…that you'd…"

"Oh, c'mon; I wrapped your head up, didn't I?", 625 pointed out, trying to sound irritated.

The Experiment reached up and gingerly touched the wrappings around his head. He looked back at 625, almost apologetically.

"I'm sorry…I didn't think…"

"Oh, what the heck!", 625 said, still attempting to act, deeply glad that he wouldn't have to re-clamp the cuffs.  
"I might as well do your wrist, too. Here, I'll get the stuff; I'll be right back-"

He stopped. While it didn't feel right to clamp the cuffs back around the injured wrists of the Experiment, he wasn't entirely privy to leave him unrestrained while he went to get more med supplies. 625 thought for a moment and the Experiment watched him, obviously expecting something strange to happen.

"…Here", 625 said after a while, holding up the cuffs again.  
"Give me your ankles."

"…My ankles?", the Experiment repeated, confused.  
"What do you want my ankles for?"

"Look, just sit with the pole between your legs, okay?", 625 requested.  
"I don't want to put these back on your wrists, so…would you please just do it?"

Still not sure what 625 meant, the Experiment warily sat back on his behind and stretched his legs in front of him, one leg on either side of the pole. 625 knelt down and fastened one set of cuffs around the Experiment's skinny ankles.  
_SNAP_ _SNAP  
_The Experiment winced and looked away even before 625 clamped the cuffs shut, but opened his eyes in surprise when he felt no pain: 625 had been sure not to repeat the condition of the Experiment's wrist by applying the cuffs gentler; by most measures, the shackles were now quite loose.

"There", 625 declared, straightening back up.  
"Hope that's more comfortable…while I'm at it, I'll get you a pillow for your butt, okay?"

The Experiment looked up, and for the first time since he had been brought too the ship, the Experiment smiled.

"Thank you, brother."

"Why are you always calling me that?", 625 asked, fixing the Experiment with an imminent stare.  
"What's all this 'brother' stuff to you?"

The Experiment continued to smile.

"Well, that's what we are, aren't we?", he asked.  
"We're family by creation, and brothers by gender."

"But our blood's artificial", 625 pointed out.

"Perhaps so", the Experiment said, shrugging.  
"But we're still family. Famije. Ohana."

625 was taken aback; not so much by the fact that he hadn't ever considered his Experiment comrades that way before, but because of the Experiment's mention of 'ohana'.

"…How d'you know that last word?", he asked curiously.  
"The only people I've heard say that word…how do you know it?"

The Experiment answered with his smile still in place;  
"People around the island say it. I'm pretty sure it means 'family'. Where've you heard it?"

625 pulled at his ear and looked disgruntled; he didn't really feel like going into detail about Stitch and Lilo at the moment.

"Uh…somewhere", he excused.  
"Hey, I'm gonna go get the stuff…hey, are you hungry, by the way? I was gonna get myself a sandwich, anyway, and if you want one, I can make you one, too."

The Experiment's smile spread to a wide beamed from ear to ear.

"Yes, please! Thank you, brother!"

"…Anything special on it?"

"I'll have whatever you're having, brother!"

"Okay…I'll go get everything then, okay?"

"Thanks again, brother!"

"…Sure…yeah…whatever…brother…"

And 625 waddled off to get the supplies and make the sandwiches, still pulling his own ear.

* * *

(_A/N: anybody who read the last chapter when it was first uploaded and is now reading this one is surely wondering why it took so long for me to finally get the next chapter uploaded.  
For the most part, my laziness is to blame, but also my management: with so many of my fics unfinished, I decided that it would be best to complete them one at a time, instead of scrambling chapters between the mess of them. My apologies to anybody ( _TT, Blue, Mimic, kate, Took, DD2, Tobias, Mareo, ainominako, MTD, and WSforgive my shortening of your names, please_) who waited for this chapter's completion for so long.  
Seeing as the chapter's contents are getting much longer than they werein the earlier chapters(_I actually intended for this to be a much shorter fic_), I can't knock them off daily, so I'm not sure when I'll write the next one (_I myself hope soon; I like handling 625did I manage him well in this chapter?_).  
Sorry, again - more than five months is a shameful amount of time to take for an update. Please forgive this busy Dragon!_) 


End file.
